Split
by Youji Kudou
Summary: the last two or tree chapters...are odd....can you PLEASE TELL ME HONESTLY WHAT YOU THINK! They may be a bit bland...as for the story...it's about Youji getting totured by Schu...'nuff said...
1. Default Chapter

Aya was fire. His hair was spread, a mass of brilliant red, paled slightly by moonlight across his white pillow. His face bore the expression of hate mixed with pain that seemed to come so naturally to him…so often…moonbeams…filtering in and binding themselves to him tightly, covering him in silken threads. He had kicked his blankets to the end of the bed in frustration…he was fire, what need was there for warmth? His dark eyes were narrow, lips parted slightly, face pale as the moonlight. Fire, fire, fire…what was it that Omi always told him?   
Aya, why are you so cold?   
And Ken? A nod of agreement…a fugitive look at him from concerned black eyes, under a mass of chocolate hair. What did they know? Aya was brilliant, Aya was burning, Aya was…dieing. But Youji…Aya's mind wandered to thoughts of the tall assassin…Youji had been odd today…like he knew something…The red head felt another surge of fire in his chest.   
Damn Youji. Damn him and his pretty brown hair, his cat-like grace and his goddamn eyes…always laughing…   
He had the urge to hit something, but found he was unable.   
Why this though?   
He could barely remember the fight. Images cast out o him, like stars…so far off…that he glimpsed when he looked through the shades of his window. They were closing in on the target…another businessman who made the mistake of crossing their boss…and then there was Crawford in front of him, hatred and humor in his expression. Aya had glimpsed red hair like his own as Shuldich moved on Youji, saw the figure of Farferello, further off, paler than he was, fighting with ken where the assassin had been taking a position. Good thing Omi wasn't here. Aya didn't want the kid hurt after their last mission…how long ago was that? Not very, so it seemed. Nagi had tossed around the little blonde pretty badly. Then again, he didn't see Nagi anywhere, perhaps Omi _was_ in trouble. He watched Youji as he cried out in pain, watched Shuldich as he struck like a snake at the cat-like assassin. He hurt for Youji, hated the other red head, as he noted the look of satisfaction on his face. But by then he had his own pain to worry about. Brad had caught him by the neck of his shirt, hoisting him off the ground like a little doll, no weight at all. He had pressed his fingers into Aya's neck, leaving four bruises in the delicate skin, he had whispered:   
"Don't try and interfere with our 'projects' again, scum. You almost cost us something there"   
Aya had sneered, but resisted spitting in the other man's face, the sneer had earned him a quick-silver stab to the stomach, he wasn't sure if spitting would earn him a quick death or not. He regretted all of it. Regretted, even, ever joining WieB Kreuz. Regretted letting his parents ever die, letting his precious sister get hit by a car…all of it was his fault it seemed, including Youji…and his pain…He hated the way the brunettes angel face had been twisted, wanted to kill for it, wanted to kill for all of them, wanted to taste the blood on his blade. But Youji…   
Why would you take Youji?   
He remembered a night…ages, eternities ago. The brunette had still been with them. He was still laughing. None of this hurting. It had been the closest thing to content Aya had felt in a very long time…lazy summer days, nights full of colorful outdoor parties or even occasionally woman, which was a rarity for the red head. That night there had been no woman, no parties, no colors and noise and excitement. No mission to work on. Just the four of them together in the living room. Talking. Happened once. Would never happen again. As long as Youji was gone. Aya remembered how the other two had gone to bed, Omi first, then Ken, trooping up the stairs to collapse in their respective rooms. It had only been the two of them, then. Silence…and then small, light, knowing laughter from the assassin beside him.   
"Have you ever wondered…?"   
Youji had never finished the sentence. He had laughed again. Aya's head was tilted back, resting on the back of the couch. He had been well aware of the way his hair fell down behind it, how his hand had rested casually across his body, fingers shaped elegantly, in a way that Aya knew Youji would know he was listening to him. There had been fire then, too, hadn't there? His cheeks flushed red at the memory. Youji had traced a line down his throat with his finger, watching as his teammate almost flinched at the touch. Aya guessed he would have laughed again, but it wasn't necessary. Aya knew he was being laughed at. Youji's hand had found Aya's, lifting it from it's spot on his leg.   
"Aya…"   
The redhead remembered looking at him. A thought in his eyes…   
"Have you ever tried…?"   
Youji had looked down, playing with the ring on his friend's middle finger.   
"Have you ever tried to let this all go? To let your sister go? Your parents? Have you ever tried to just…forget it all? Move on with your life?"   
"No."   
"Why not?"   
The brunette had seemed frustrated.   
"You wouldn't have to kill for money anymore. You could leave us. Leave WeiB. Not worry about death…or…Swartz."   
Aya looked at him.   
"I would never leave you. And besides…"   
He was getting irritated.   
"You should speak for yourself. A little forgetting on your behalf might do you good."   
He had frowned.   
Youji looked a little desperate.   
"Aya…"   
"I'm going to bed, Youji-San"   
And that had been that. Now he regretted every word of it.   
Where are you, Youji?   
He thought into the darkness, into the moonlight.   
He heard laughter. He would kill Shuldich if he was hurting Youji…strangle him with his own insides…   
_ Only if you can catch me, little baka Aya!_   
More laughter.   
Kill him.   
But then the fire began again, and Aya escaped again to a world of his own pain. 

When Aya woke again, it was day. Someone had thoughtfully pulled the blinds down over his window, so as to keep the sun from blazing in his face. It took him a minute to realize that his thought patterns were once again intact.   
He tuned his head, surveying the room. His Katana leaned in its usual place, but other than that, it looked as if someone else was living in his room. He looked at himself. He was covered again, despite his rampage last night. He felt a kind of ache from his stomach, but nothing like it had been. He shuddered. Someone had obviously been caring for him; it was bandaged tightly, and cleaned. And someone who knew him…He saw his black shirt folded neatly on the small table beside him, stiff with his blood. Next to it, but not touching was a white linen one, freshly washed and pressed. Traditional for him, it was lace-up with leather for about three inches down his chest. He smiled. Not a true smile, but a start. Ken and Omi no doubt, worried about their precious leader's safety. Almost…another smile. He moved experimentally, prodding the bandaged wound gently with one finger. After contemplation, he got up, bending slightly at the hip to allow for his pain. He found waster in a pitcher with a cup and greedily drank it down. He wondered, vaguely, where the other…two…were. Probably in the flower shop. He checked the little alarm clock beside the bead. They would be home soon if that was where they were. He had questions. A wild hope rose inside him that They had found Youji, but he didn't think for a moment, seriously, that his partner would come smiling home from the flower shop, the other two trailing slightly behind. A little emperor he was for all of them. Aya sighed. If Youji was alive, Aya would find him. Somehow, though, the redhead doubted that too.   



	2. Chaper two?

Youji slammed his foot on the accelerator, throwing his body back into the seat as the Mustang jumped forward, squealing brakes and tires. His knuckles were white around the wheel, his teeth clenched. Damn Schudich and his mind games, Kudou Youji was out of there. They should have known they couldn't hold him. The brunette felt a sickening feeling rise in his gut. He hoped. Ah well, it was the best he could do. He jerked the leather-coated steering wheel around again, taking the next corner on the two outermost wheels. His heart leapt suddenly into his throat as his saw a young woman on the road in front of him. She screamed, he swerved. Narrow miss, but it cost him. A quick look in the rearview mirror told him that his rival was onto him, and gaining fast. He wondered at Schuldich's lack of mind control, but quickly lost the thought as he skidded through a red light and almost hit the curb. It was night, but that didn't mean there weren't other cars about. He might have to be careful. Another thought forgotten as he saw the redhead's car swerve up beside him dangerously. His eyes widened, and he pushed on the accelerator again. Not that it could get any further into the floor. He had to try, right? He almost lost control as the other vehicle slammed him just behind the door. He was lucky the convertible was heavy…well, heavier than Shuldich's little Viper, anyway. Youji pulled ahead again as they entered a little one-way street. He would have to trick the other if he was going to escape.   
_You won't escape anyway, little kitten._   
Youji took that to his advantage. While Schuldich was distracted, he swerved again sharply, almost hit a garbage can on the curb, and then pulled away speedily, leaving Schuldich in the confusion of an empty alleyway in front of him. Youji knew he didn't have a lot of escape time, and he must use is wisely. He was out on an empty freeway now, driving down the absolute center of the road, engine roaring to its maximum capacity. His next corner was a gentle one, but it threw him quite off-balance as he swung around. He noted headlights. One in front, one behind. Schuldich was on his tail again, and some poor, innocent driver in front of him. Youji eased the car back into it's own lane. Schuldich wasn't in his head anymore; the redhead must have realized how dangerous losing his concentration could be. An advantage for the tall assassin, as any rate. As the car in front of him came closer, the blonde saw his predicament. It was Nagi. With Crawford. He saw Nagi had his eyes closed. That close, that close. Youji slammed the breaks. His lanky body flew foreword with the momentum, but he kept his foot where it was. He heard Schuldich's mental curse and saw the green viper fly by narrowly, saw Crawford's car do the same. Saw Nagi's face of rage. Now he was in for it. He tried to spin the wheel around, to turn around and get away, but by the time he was half way there he felt the car slide sickeningly sideways. Nagi's doing of course. He saw a brick wall on the side of he freeway. Youji closed his eyes, waiting for the impact that might kill him. Then again, they might not let him go so easily. He knew for a fact that Schuldich wanted more from him. The car hit. He heard and felt the metal caving inwards, the wreckage, the fuel pouring across the road from where the gas tank had broken open. The windshield shattered. Instinctively, his hands went to his face, and then everything was black. 

_You went to sleep in pain, why wouldn't you wake up like that too?_   
Shuldich circling round and round, his hot finger burning the pretty brunette as he traced it round and round his chest. Obviously, he was enjoying himself. More obviously, Youji was not.   
_We are so alike, you and I…to bad we're mortal enemies…to bad you had to get in the way…_   
_GET out of my HEAD bastard!_   
_Is that really the best you can do? Is that really as hard as you can fight?_   
Telepathic laughter.   
_What do you say…we strike a deal…just…you and…I…_   
The redhead stopped mid-point in his circling. Youji's hands were tied above his head, his feet dangling inches above the floor. He hated being so goddamn helpless!   
_Farferello would approve!_   
Shuldich's finger was right at the center of Youji's chest. Accusing, taunting.   
_Well, kitten? What do you say?_   
Youji was silent. Then a stab of pain through his head, white light searing him, burning him. He writhed, unsettling the other's touch. Shuldich didn't seem to mind that much. In fact, he was smiling.   
_When I ask, you answer, pet. I have no time for you…only for your pain._   
Youji wanted to scream. Both from frustration and pain. He realized, somewhat subconsciously that he had cuts running over most of his body. Perhaps that was why the telepath's touch burned him. He assumed it was from the glass of his windshield. Schuldich brought his attention back to the matter at hand with a solid punch to the stomach…physical this time. He groaned.   
_Well?_   
_What do you want?_   
The redhead appeared to be thinking.   
_What do you want most right now, little Kudou? Well, that is besides alcohol and a cigarette and perhaps a lady. Or…_   
Youji wasn't about to let him finish his sentence.   
_Freedom._   
He said with all the strength he now possessed. It left him feeling empty. Shuldich laughed.   
_ Alright…_   
He said at length   
_ I'm willing to gamble. Now what do you think I want right now, kitten. Besides alcohol, a cigarette and perhaps a lady…or…_   
Once again, Youji cut in.   
_You're the mind reader, bastard._   
Tight, feline smile.   
_Why I do believe your right…_   
The smile turned into a glare.   
_Guess, kitten._   
Shuldich sneered, and resumed his circling.   
_A chance…freedom?_   
Schuldich stopped in front of again, striking the helpless brunette in the stomach, again. Youji closed his eyes.   
_ God get me out of this._   
_Now that our Farfie would most certainly NOT approve of, darling. I wouldn't do THAT again. _   
_ I hate you Shuldich._   
_I know kitten._   
The lanky assassin smiled. Genuinely. Youji found himself suddenly ten times more frightened.   
_At any rate, pretty one, back our bargain. You have guessed rather accurately at what I want…now can you give me a chance to get it? If you can, lovely, your wish will also be granted._   
_ What, exactly, do you want freedom from, Shuldich?_   
The redhead threw his own words back at him, using a whiney, nasal voice, that Youji suspected was supposed to be an imitation of his own.   
_You're the telepath, Yo-tan!_   
Youji didn't say a word. He did know the answer. Shuldich wanted out of Schwartz…and there was no way Youji could give it to him. Absolutely no way.   
Absently, he heard the other laughing again.   
_Goodness, little Weiss boy, I wouldn't expect that much of you! _   
Youji's turn to glare.   
_Then what DO you want, Shuldich?_   
_Mmm…to tell, you, not…to tell you to not…?_   
_ I can't give it to you unless I know what it is._   
_Fine then._   
He almost sounded like a little boy when he said it like that…Youji marveled. Shuldich seemed agitated…uncomfortable…. A first for the brunettes to see. It surprised him. But the German seemed undecided at what he wanted of the other yet. Odd. Shuldich had not broken the frail link that still bonded them, and Youji could feel small tendrils of thought winding themselves about his head.   
_ I need………_   
Youji stayed silent…. for the sake of his health and also his curiosity.   
_I need to hurt Crawford. Badly._   
Shuldich let out a mental sigh and continued pacing.   
_Why?_   
_You have forgotten your place, kitten._   
Youji felt a lash like a whip across his mind. He winced, but stayed silent. The redhead glared. But he answered anyway.   
_Call it revenge, if you like._   
Youji nodded, eyes narrowing.   
_You've always been one for revenge._   
_Shut-up, weakling._   
To his surprise, Youji wasn't attacked again. Shuldich seemed to be keeping his anger at bay. Miracles. He really was asking for a beating wasn't he? But the German's anger never came. Youji pushed it.   
_What did he do to you, Shuld?_   
He said it tauntingly, inviting his captor. At the same time, he wondered if he was still sane.   
_Steal a box of your precious cigarettes? Funny, I didn't know the boy smoked…_   
Shuldich ignored him completely.   
_Do you think you could manage, kitten, if I was to give you a little mission of my own._   
_I don't owe you any favors, Schuldich, you fuck_   
Youji saw the redhead's eyes narrow, and knew this one wouldn't pass by unnoticed. Shuldich whirled on him suddenly, a knife blade bare in his hands. In seconds it was at Youji's throat.   
"One thing, whore. You owe me one thing. Your life."   
The brunette was not prepared for his opponent to speak normally, and had unconsciously tried to throw himself backwards, away from the words and the knife. Schuldich laughed.   
_ USELESS_   
_Damn, straight fool. Now will you do it…. or will you die?_   
Youji gritted his teeth. Maybe he should. It was his best chance…though he didn't really trust Schuldich to release him as he said he would. At least he hadn't been asked to hurt one of his teammates. He heard Schuldich's silent laugh.   
_Oh but that comes next, kitten._   
Youji felt a rising hate and frustration. There was nothing, nothing he could do. He gritted his teeth.   
_Fine. I'll do it._   
Schuldich smiled.   
"Good"   
_I knew you'd come around._   



	3. Chapter 3? I'll get better names later

Youji spent the next hour still tied by his hands, listening to Schuldich lay out the rules for this… "Mission"…He wondered, vaguely, whether it was possible for Schuldich to be vainer than he was, so often did he praise his own ingenious planning. Each time this thought crossed his mind; he was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain that let him know that Schuldich was still watching. The redhead was covering all the grounds. So far, he had picked up nothing useful in his escape or, for that matter, for his 'mission', Schuldich was simply telling him the rules, the weapon he would use, how he could best go about gaining what he wanted. He neither specified nor even hinted at what this item might be. Youji didn't even listen, most of the time. The only thing he gathered was that he would be using a handgun instead of his precious wire this time. He wondered when he would get it back.   
_Never_   
Was the telepathic response. Finally, Shuldich stopped talking. He walked up closer to his victim, sneering, looking up. Youji suppressed a shudder.   
_Now kitten._   
He said sarcastically   
_Have I forgotten anything?_   
Youji didn't say a word, looking straight at his tormenter without emotion.   
_Ah yes…perhaps you might like to know what you're doing?_   
Schuldich's eyes narrowed.   
_But first I think we might want to make sure you actually follow the rules I've so carefully laid out for you, ne?_   
Youji tensed, waiting for the pain to hit. Schuldich was smarter that that. He waited for the brunette to relax again before he struck, and when he did it was with a vengeance that almost killed them both. Youji screamed. His body felt like it was being torn to shreds from the inside out, his head a vortex of blindingly bright color swirling nauseatingly in front of his half-closed eyes. Through the haze he saw Schuldich, quiet, but writhing, his hands to his temples, a grimace twisting his face into a horrid smile of pain. Then his sight was gone, and all he felt was the pain in his body, like a barbed dagger sliding slowly into his stomach, like his collarbone and ribs were contracting about his heart, broken and jagged. The knife though…it triggered a thought that he couldn't quite place. Why try, in this little fiery hell, to even think? He was brought around again with a mental and physical slap across the face. The pain practically evaporated around him, and he was left breathing heavily, eyes still closed. He felt Schuldich's hand sweep towards his face again, and wrenched it out of the way before it could connect. His eyes snapped open, glaring at the redhead, who was, curiously, grinning.   
_DON'T try to betray me._   
Youji's lip twitched.   
_Now…_   
What was it? Something about a dagger…the one that he had seen when Schuldich had hurt him.   
_ //It's mine.//_   
_What?_   
_ //The dagger…it's mine//._   
_Schuldich?_   
The redhead didn't move.   
_//Nooooo…//_   
Youji frowned. What the hell was going on? This was not like telepath he had known…moments…ago…   
_ Crawford?_   
_//Congratulations, kitten//._   
_Brad, get the FUCK out of here._   
Youji jumped. He felt himself cut out of the conversation suddenly, and saw Schuldich's half smile. That dagger…if it belonged to Crawford…He remembered the night he had been taken. The fight in the back streets, Snarling in resistance to Schuldich's mental torture, seeing Ken to his far left, and Aya, meters away, Crawford had picked Aya up by the collar of his shirt. Youji had seen the dagger drop into the Schwartz leader's palm, no doubt from a spring release sheath under his forearm. Youji had noticed Aya's twisted sneer of defiance, seen the katana rise from its limp position, dangling from the redhead's hand. But the dagger was faster. It was barbed. Yeah, it was the same one. He had leapt at the two, screaming, horror rising quickly that this would he the end of his leader, but Schuldich had chosen that moment to strike him a good blow, which knocked him hard onto the grungy cement. The last thing he had seen was the dagger entering Aya's side, and heard the redhead's screams. But it was the same dagger. Youji didn't know what it meant…whether this was something he could use against them, or whether it was something they could simply use to cause him more pain with. He hauled himself out of his thoughts abruptly when he realized Schuldich was done with Crawford's head and was swiftly turning his attention back to his prey. He had yet to find out what he was supposed to be doing.   
Schuldich addressed it immediately.   
_As I was saying, kitten, before our little Bradykins interrupted so rudely, was…hmm…_   
Youji was still silent.   
_Well, what I want you to do is this. Nagi is out tonight._   
The telepath grinned mischievously, reminding Youji of a playful cat.   
_No doubt, frolicking with his little lover, Omi, but that's beside the point._   
Youji glared at Schuldich.   
_Omi would never sink to the little brat's levels._   
Schuldich just laughed.   
_What I was trying to tell you, kitten, is that it's just me and you and Farfie tonight…and…of course our…'prey'…_   
Youji grimaced.   
_So this is going to have to be quick, and it's going to have to be tonight._   
_What do you want? _   
_You are going to have to get into Brad's computer._   
_ Isn't this a better job for Nagi…or even Omi? Why did you pick me?_   
_Nagi would never betray his precious leader…and besides, I don't want him knowing about those files I want you to collect. And Omi… he simply wasn't available…besides. I like you better._   
Youji had to suppress another shudder.   
_So why am I going to need a weapon? _   
_Crawford is quite dearly in love with his little files…he has one guard…and unlike me, you can't fool the bastard's mind with telepathy._   
_ You could do it for me._   
_What, and make your life easier? I don't think so, but nice try._   
_ So if you can fool the guard, why not do it yourself? _   
_Brad knows I'm out to get him. I'm the one person he DOES NOT want to have in possession with his precious files. He has all sorts of high-tech stuff that's triggered to go off if I so much as enter the room. Trust me, kitten I've thought of everything._   
_ Fine._   
Schuldich flicked a knife from inside his coat.   
_You may carry this._   
And then from a place on his hip, hidden by the redhead's coat, a handgun, complete with silencer.   
_You will use this._   
_What does it matter what I use?_   
_Crawford will recognize the cut his own dagger makes, don't you think? But if you use my gun, with my bullets, I'm sure he'll think it was me. Which is what we want...I enjoy making Bradykins angry._   
Looking a little more closely, Youji recognized Crawford knife again…it was plaguing him.   
_It's all part of the torture, little kitten. We all know you cared for that foolish little redhead more than was healthy for you._   
Youji wanted to kill him, and not for the first time. But Schuldich was reaching up for his bonds, and the dagger that hurt him, freed him. The tall assassin considered throwing himself at his tormenter, but decided against it when he noticed that the redhead was still carrying both weapons. Even when Youji took possession, he doubted he would be able to go anywhere near Schuldich, the other would simply turn his mind away…possibly simply kill him. Youji rubbed his wrists while Schuldich cut the ropes at his ankles, wincing as the salt from his fingers brushed light cuts from the bonds. Schuldich held out the knife when he was finished with it.   
_My apologies, kitten…there might be a little blood on it…it's stained pretty bad from last time it was used…_   
He sneered.   
_Did you know, Aya's blood seems to do that to steel._   
Youji felt his expression change to one of grief, and he wondered if Aya had died in the fight from loss of blood, or if Omi and Ken had gotten to him in time enough to save him. A stab to the stomach was not one that would kill instantly. Schuldich shoved the gun into Youji's numb hands, careful not to touch him.   
"Now, you might need to know how to get there…"   
Schuldich trailed off. For some reason Youji had assumed that these files had been stored in the very building they were in, but he understood now that it didn't make sense. Schuldich paced to the door, opened it and grabbed Youji's coat from inside.   
"It's been searched…there's nothing left of your possessions in there."   
The brunette caught it as it was thrown to him and stashed the handgun in an inside pocket. Readjusting the jacket, he made it so that the bulge could not be seen from the outside. The knife he slipped up his right sleeve, positioning his hand for an easy release. He tested it several times. Finally he looked back up at his enemy. The enemy he was working for, he reminded himself. But that was beside the point right now. Schuldich was watching him.   
"Shirtless in the city…won't you draw attention?"   
Youji shrugged.   
"I walk around like this all the time. Why stop now?"   
Schuldich raised an eyebrow. He was holding a slip of paper. He handed it to Youji carefully.   
"These are directions to the place…here"   
He dug for a minute in his pocket and produced a set of keys, tossing them to Youji.   
"You take the viper, your pretty little mustang's been pretty much totaled."   
_But you kill MY car, and I'll destroy you._   
Youji looked at Schuldich expressionlessly.   
He held the piece of paper between two fingers. God, he wished he had a cigarette. He felt incredibly tired, suddenly. Being tortured begins to wear on a guy sometimes.   
"On the back of that paper…"   
Schuldich gestured to the slip that Youji still held.   
"Is the name of the file and how access it. There will be discs in the room. You need to put the files on the discs and bring them back here…and yes…I will be keeping a close watch on you kitten. One slip up…"   
Youji got the point.   
"Get out of here."   
Schuldich waved his hand at the door absently.   
"I expect you back in an hour or so."   
Youji gave the other assassin the coldest, most hate-filled look he could summon, adding a slight sneer that made the redhead wince. Then he was gone out he door. 

The room Schuldich had kept him in had been on the top floor of a three-story office building. Youji had taken the stairs four at a time, racing to the bottom. Sure enough, the Viper was parked outside. He unlocked it and climbed inside. Youji wasn't sure what had gotten into him. The vehemence, the confusion was gone from him, and in it's place hate and the desire to kill, anyone, if he couldn't get what he wanted. Schuldich's doing no doubt. He was almost…numb…Youji sighed and jammed the key in the ignition, feeling the powerful little car roar to life. With a squeal or protest from the brakes, he spun the wheel, spinning the car out of it's spot and onto the road, one hand on the steering wheel. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator. It was night; there was nobody on the roads anyway. The car was gone in a matter of minutes.   
About the time the car disappeared around the corner, Schuldich was on the curb, having followed his prey from the room. He stood, silent on the sidewalk in front of the building. There was loud music playing across the street. The city wind blew his hair around his face, and he pushed it back with one hand.   
_Little kitten…you know I'd rather love you than hate you, but my conscience simply will not allow it. _   
Schuldich smirked to himself in the darkness of the street. In reality, that wasn't true, but he thought is was important to say anyway. The redhead shivered and pulled his trench coat closer around him, slipping back inside, a shadow wraith in the night.   



	4. Aya's blood

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

  
Aya paced. Omi and Ken had attempted to stop him, they said he was tearing the newly bonded flesh in his side, but he fended them off effortlessly. They were all in the tiny living room of the apartment, Ken sitting, leaning forward a little, a look of open concern on his face. Omi was huddle in a corner of the couch, hands around his knees.   
"You haven't heard anything from him? Nothing at all?"   
"No, Aya-kun. We told you. Ken said he saw Schuldich dragging him off, but nothing more…"   
"So he's not dead. There's hope."   
The other two were silent. Aya sighed.   
"If he was dead, Schuldich, knowing him, would send us a note, something, anything, just to brag…and why, then would they drag a dead body away, if he died on the scene. Did he get stabbed? Shot?"   
"No, Aya, he was just…thrown sideways suddenly. He was reaching for you, 'cause I think he saw the knife that Crawford had. And Schuldich caught him unaware…"   
Ken this time. Aya nodded. The pain in his side was growing. He knew he would have to sit sometime, soon. He took a few more steps and then collapsed in worn little chair in the corner, putting his hand to his forehead.   
"Did you want anything, Aya?"   
Aya shook his head, sending his already unkempt hair into further tangles. He had eaten nothing since…well…he didn't know…but it was before the fight…and he didn't know how long ago that was.   
"You've been out two days, Aya. You should eat."   
Ken, reading his mind again. Aya felt a small stirring of fondness for his teammate …very strange for him. What was with him anyway? He nodded, relenting, and Omi scrambled to his feet before Ken could get up.   
"I'll fix you something, Aya Kun! Ken tell him more!"   
The boy's face was drawn up into a little frown of concern. Ken sighed.   
"There really is nothing, Aya…"   
The redhead waited for the youngest assassin to get out of earshot.   
"Was Omi hurt?"   
He asked. Ken nodded.   
"I'm sorry, Aya, but I didn't know what was happening…we were moving in on the target when they just popped out of nowhere…but I didn't see Nagi… It was to late for me to do anything; Farferello was on me in a second, but Nagi…he went to Omi."   
"What did he do to him?"   
"Nothing to serious…broke a rib, but it's all bandaged up now, he'll be all right. Nagi tossed him into a wall, and Omi lost consciousness. Then the little bastard deleted all Omi's files from the computer, erasing all the stuff we had on the target. He was Schwartz property, apparently. S'all right, now, I think. As long as the guys dead, boss-man doesn't care who killed him."   
Aya nodded.   
"I was worried…Nagi banged him up badly last time too…"   
"Yeah, I know."   
Omi returned just then, carrying a tray of food…Aya didn't even notice what it was, stuffing himself until he could eat no more. Omi had brought water too. So the kid was useful for something…it sounded like a thing Youji would say…Aya stopped himself from thinking.   
  
It was still early evening…the sky had not quite turned a complete black…and there was the last sliver of a moon in the sky. Aya looked out the large living room window at it, eyes narrowed in a kind of unreasonable hate. From the evening light, he could see clouds gathering on the horizon…perhaps it would rain tonight. He could hope…   
The three of them had been silent for more than an hour…Omi had brought his laptop into the room and was doing some research…trying to find out why the hell Schwartz had wanted the target in the first place, hopefully. That's what Aya had told him to do. Ken had a book and was lounging with the couch all by himself. Aya had stayed where he was. Omi had brought him a pad and pencil when he had asked, but so far, the paper was blank. He held the pencil idly between two fingers, twisting it slightly, biting his lip. It was only eight…he wasn't about to go to bed for another couple of hours…but he felt like he was wasting his time. He should be doing something. Aya played with the thought of standing up and pacing again, just to get a reaction from his two companions, but discarded it without contemplating too much when the fire in his wound raged back with a new vengeance. Crawford would pay for this…Omi looked up with a quick intake of breath.   
"Found something Aya!"   
Aya met the youngest member's eyes.   
"Really…"   
"Yeah…says here the target was a business associate of Crawford's at one time…before he joined the assassin group, I think. These are records of a money engagement of some sort…Crawford sold him something big, but it doesn't specify."   
Omi turned the screen towards his leader.   
"This was when he was still in America, too, I think."   
Aya didn't pay much attention to the screen. Just some random numbers that didn't mean anything to him. Omi turned the screen back towards himself, and typed something in. His eyes went a little wide.   
"Information…"   
"What?"   
"He sold Information…"   
"Oh…"   
Omi typed in something else.   
"Damn."   
"…"   
"I think…maybe the target cheated our little Crawford out on something…"   
Aya's eyebrows shot up.   
"That's no easy task, let me tell you."   
"I know."   
The blonde's fingers flew over the keys.   
"So how come we didn't get this before, Omi?"   
"We only had the information Manx gave us…and you know she doesn't like me hacking into target files…it leaves to many footprints, she says."   
Aya looked worried.   
"No worries, Aya-kun, the targets dead, remember, plus, she may leave footprints, but I don't."   
Aya smiled.   
"Of course not, Omi."   
"Well, we know he cheated the boss, too, from Manx. This guy has had a bit of a bad reputation. I would think he would expect to be dead by now."   
Aya grunted. It was true. He remembered how Manx had smiled when she told them. Of course, she hadn't told them everything. She never did.   
"So now we know why Crawford would kill him, at least…but why would Schuldich want Youji?"   
Aya sighed. He didn't really want to talk about the other redhead and his sick sense of humor to Omi, of all people.   
"The bastard takes pleasure in hurting things, Omi. I don't know why Youji though. Perhaps because he was simply available. They've always hated each other."   
Omi nodded. He looked a little sad.   
_So I'm not the only one missing him…_   
Aya looked at Ken. The Brunette hadn't said a word the entire time, but obviously had been listening.   
"Aya…Perhaps…"   
The Assassin felt his violet gaze lock onto his teammates. Ken flinched.   
"I can't shake off the feeling, I have to tell you. I think Schuldich is using him."   
Aya was silent. It made sense. But for what would Youji be of use? Schuldich was an assassin too… what could Youji achieve that Schuldich could not? Get into Weiss was one...   
"I'm going to bed."   
The two others jumped at his tone.   
"Aya, you need…"   
"No. Goodnight."   
He flew up the stairs, ignoring the protests from his wound. He felt their eyes on his back until he disappeared into his room.   
It was dark…the window was still shuttered. He yanked the blinds up, letting the faint moonlight trickle onto the floor. The rain clouds were much closer…there must be a considerable wind tonight. Aya looked at the bed, the disorder of sheets and blankets. A sudden anger swept over him like a tide. What right did that red-haired bastard have to steal away their teammate? He would pay for Youji in blood. Before he could stop himself, Aya felt his fist fly forward. It connected with the wall with a sickening crack. The pain from twisting his waist hurt more than his fist, though. Aya examined the new crack in his wall with genuine interest…then his hand. He had broken the skin, but not enough to bleed. He hadn't broken anything. The anger came flooding back again…but this time it was more self-hate, for letting Youji hurt…letting Omi hurt…He slammed the wall again, and this time left a bloody stain. He bit his lip. It didn't even really hurt that much. He jumped as the door slammed open. Ken was standing in the doorway.   
"Aya!"   
"Get…Out"   
"Aya you've hurt yourself! You cried out!"   
"I did?"   
"Yes!"   
"Get…OUT"   
"Aya…please…Omi's worried about you…don't…"   
Aya took a step towards the doorway. Ken bit back a comment and shut the door quietly. The redhead sighed. Nothing was right about this. He touched his bleeding knuckles gently, and realized he was shaking. He put his lips to the wound, for lack of anything to wrap them with, cleaning the blood away… 

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The building Youji arrived at was different than he had expected. He had thought of a trim little business building, white plastered and spotless…instead, he got an abandoned church of some sort, brick with missing windows and walls coated in graffiti. He sat in the Viper contemplating. He had taken the knife out of his coat sleeve and now he toyed with it in the darkness, careful not to touch Aya's blood. He was leaned back in the driver's seat, relaxed by appearance, but in reality, drawn like a bow. Schuldich was watching his mind with idle curiosity, not really caring that his 'kitten' was pausing, as long as he was on-track. Youji leaned forward slowly, picking up the slip of paper from the dashboard. The place had been easy to find…the problem seemed to be with getting in. The main entrance Schuldich had drawn as blocked, and Youji wasn't about to argue. If the redhead wanted it done this way, that was the way he would do it. There was a back entrance, though, which was open for Crawford's use, which led to a stairway with a guard at the top…a difficult situation, him being on the downhill, and therefore on the disadvantage. He could use the gun here, but it would probably be to dark to see much until he got close. He had already resolved to kill with the knife, then shoot the guy afterwards…he wasn't breaking any rules. But by now that resolve had faded, and he was just going to wing it…whatever happened, happened. Who cared now if he died? It wasn't like the other Wiess members even knew he was alive. Youji gritted his teeth, holding the steel knife up to light from a streetlamp, inspecting the dark streaks of blood on the glinting silver. He didn't get the chance to see Aya bleed much…their leader was as good with the sword as he was with words…the bastard read too much. Youji glared at the barbs, every one stained, at the hilt where a trickle had wormed its way down onto the wood. That one was probably permanent. He could see where it had soaked into the wood. Unconsciously, his eyes wandered back to the streaks on the flat of the small blade. His fingers flew out, touching them. The blood was rough compared to the silky cold of the blade.   
_Schuldich?_   
_ Do your work, kitten._   
Youji twitched. He wanted solitude right now, more than anything. Try to sort all this out. But he wasn't going to get it until he was finished this. Why should he expect pity from Schuldich? The tall assassin shoved the knife back up his coat-sleeve, drawing in a quick breath to steady himself. Then he shoved the Viper's door open and stepped into the street, eyes flicking up to the shadowed building.   
_I am the assassin. Death is my job. I am hunter, reveal to me my prey._   
And Youji's eyes turned cold.   



	5. chapter 5 my, i'm REALLY getting origin...

_Rain_   
He rose in the middle of the night, still clothed, as he had been when he slipped under the covers, his knuckles still stained with a small amount of blood, though by now it was dry. The moon was gone, and in its place a darkness he could barley penetrate. Rain struck the windows, echoed on the empty street below, it seemed the water was as black as the night. The glowing numbers of the alarm clock beside the bed told him it was not even midnight yet, much to his disappointment. What did it matter, though? When tomorrow came? What would have changed? Aya's eyes glinted in the faint light from the moon coming through his window. What was an assassin to do? The answer seemed suddenly obvious.   
  
Ken paced his room. Aya was taking this thing way to hard. It wasn't like him at all. Then again, they had never lost a teammate.   
_Abandoned_   
_That must be how we all feel, I mean, we've all been abandoned in our pasts…and now this…I guess Aya just couldn't take losing another one._   
The soccer-player's eyes narrowed. That was no excuse for Aya's constant sulking and bad-temper. Wasn't making things better. Especially for Omi. Ken's brows knitted in a look of concern. Poor kid. He of all people shouldn't have to see their leader this way. He remembered the little blonde's expression when he had entered the apartment after the fight. Omi had been propped up against the wall, not making a noise. Ken had thought him dead. But he was not, and opened his eyes as the dark assassin had entered, Aya's body clutched to him, blood all over. No sign of Youji, no sign of life in the prone read-head. The look in Omi's eyes had been unbearable. Utter defeat. Pain, and defeat. Ken stopped at the window, watching the black rain pound against the glass, watching the lights flicker slowly.   
_What am I to do?_   
He really had no idea. Other than…just try and offer some form of comfort to his roommates. He felt a sudden wave of guilt.   
I_ was the only one who never got hurt…why didn't I help them? Why didn't I go to them?_   
And then there was an image of Farferello skittering through his mind, like dry, red, leaves. Insane laughter echoing through the streets. A rasping voice telling him that tonight was his night to die. Ken was not dead. He considered himself lucky. That man…if you could call him that, could carry a LOT of knives. But then there was Crawford to consider…after all, he had had a gun, too…and yet Aya was still alive…he had a hole in his gut, but yes, he was alive…and that was more than what he could say for Youji. An image of blonde hair flickered across his mind's eye…and bright green eyes.   
_You think YOU'RE taking this hard…think of Aya_   
He couldn't. Youji had been the one person who had even started to come close to the red head, and now he was gone…and Aya was as closed to the other two as he had been the night they had come together. The four of them. Ken sighed. Manx was NOT going to be happy. His head snapped up suddenly as he heard a faint knock on the door, his eyes narrowing. A tentative voice…   
"Ken?"   
It was Omi…Why was he so nervous? The door creaked open, allowing the hallway's light to seep in.   
"It's Aya again…he's not in bed…and…and it's raining…"   
Ken suppressed a quick surge of rage, but his voice still came out strangled and angry.   
"He's out? Where?" 

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_Rain. Cleansing rain._   
He stood, his face turned up towards the black sky, watching the individual droplets as they fell towards him, landing on his cheeks and nose and lips. His red hair was flowing and damp, sticking to his white shirt and in one place to his cheek, where it touched the corner of his lips.   
_On one side…there is fire and pain…and on the other there is this_…   
Aya drew in a deep breath, taking in the moist air, the scent and taste of the damp street…His pale hands were limp and spread at his side, reaching for something untouchable, his back arched ever so slightly as to allow himself a view of the dark recesses of sky…and the touch of white light to the cloud…a reflection of what had been a moon. There had been some intention…some reason to coming out here…but Aya could not identify what exactly it was, and neither did her care. Purpose didn't really matter anymore.   
_The blood has been shed, and I have lost what was left of my mind. Now what? Left alone on some street corner, tasting the rain? Did they even notice I left?_   
He knew that they had noticed. Or at least Omi had. He had seen the large blue eyes peering at him from the crack in the blonde's door…had seen tears as they tumbled unchecked down the teenager's cheek. It had only been a glance…but it had stopped him. It had robbed him of his thought, and therefore his desire to go after Youji as he had planned crazily in his restless bed. It had brought back his sanity, and it was something he did not want now.   
Aya was motionless. He knew they were coming. He could almost see them. Could almost hear Ken's protests…but when they were here, they would understand…one pale hand reached down, caressing the hilt of the katana strapped at his waist.   
_More Schwarz blood soon, I promise._

Ken forced himself to breathe steadily as he rifled through the pile of dirty laundry and discarded odds and ends that littered his floor. Finally he came across what he wanted and held it above his head triumphantly. Three steely claws flashed in the low light of his bedroom. Swiftly, his hand was at his front again, and he was wrapping the leather around his palm, concentrated, practiced. Then he was out the door again, met by Omi, who was holding his crossbow loosely in one hand, the empty cloth cover for Aya's blade clutched in the other slightly shaking hand.   
_We've grown to close to each other_   
Ken shook the thought from his head, leading the way down the narrow hallway at a dead run, Omi close behind him… 

The burst onto the empty street, and the chocolate haired assassin's eyes darted up the road, looking for the telltale flash of red hair. There was none. He cursed and came to a stop, his breath coming with slight difficulty. Omi came up beside him, an expression of worry on his soft features, rain running rivulets down his face and through his hair.   
"Where would he go?"   
Omi shrugged.   
"I'm guessing wherever he thinks Youji is."   
Ken looked at his partner quickly, startled at the bitterness in his quiet voice. He was already soaked, and the rain was coming down in torrents, making the black cement of the street look white.   
"Fuck it, lets just stick to the road."   
Omi nodded, and they broke into a run again, Ken tucked his claws into the curve of his stomach, hoping to keep the rainwater off of them. It didn't help much, as his jacket was dripping just as much as the outside weather.   
They rounded the corner, splashing through a pool of water without regard, breath ragged in their throats with both anxiety and from the sprint. In a sudden movement, Ken came to an abrupt stop, hovering for a moment, unbalanced.   
_ Aya_.   
His blade was bare, rainwater dripping from the tapered end, glittering in the faint moonlight. He wore no jacket, just the white shirt he had been wearing in his room. He stood with his back to them, so that Ken could not see his face, but he knew that the red-head had been waiting for them…his air was one of something very close to satisfaction, and Ken became uneasy, holding his hand up in order to stop Omi, who had started to step forward.   
"Aya. We're here."   
The assassin quietly turned, and Ken was taken aback at the expression…his lips were curled back in a sneer, eyes downcast, but angry. His chest rose and fell evenly with each controlled breath. Ken said nothing, didn't move.   
"I noticed………"   
Omi snaked under the Brunette's arm, and Ken made a half-grab for him, but failed. Instead he stood strait, lips half parted, wondering vaguely if Aya would dare to hurt the younger blonde again. He saw indecision flicker over the redhead's features; highlighted by the coursing rain…no…he had more sense than that. Omi approached…and then stood only meters away from his teammate, the water making his hair stick to his forehead. Aya watched him suspiciously; violent eyes glinting…but apparently found him relatively harmless, and turned his gaze back up to Ken.   
"Are you coming, Siberian?"   
The assassin took a step forward…and then hesitated.   
"Where?"   
"To get Youji back."   
Ken stood shocked for a moment…surely it was a suicide mission…but the again…   
"Of course…"   
Aya smiled coldly and turned around again, facing the shadows of the gray city. He didn't move, though, until Ken drew up next to him, wet mass of chocolate hair blowing back from his face in a sudden burst of wind.   
"Lets go." 

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The guard was surprisingly easy to neutralize, and Youji killed him with a swift cut to the throat and a bullet to the chest, for effect. He stepped over the body and into the room beyond. It was sparse…no decorations on the walls, no furnishings…only the solitary computer, it's screen dark and foreboding. Sliding into it's cushioned chair, Youji drummed his fingers absently on the tabletop as he waited for it to load. When it did, he easily found the program he needed…all those hours spent leaning over Omi's shoulder had paid off after all…he felt a twinge in the bottom of his chest at the thought of his blonde teammate, but he shoved it away.   
_Save the sentiments for later, kitten._   
Long fingers clicked on the keys of the keyboard, emerald eyes absorbed by the glowing screen. Briefly he turned his gaze away, fumbling for a disc in amongst the neatly stacked piles of junk beside the computer. He found one and jammed it into the drive. It clicked a few times…and then allowed him to execute the transfer. Whatever the file was, it was large. Youji waited anxiously for the upload to complete…and when it did shut the computer down swiftly, removing the disc and, once putting it back in it's plastic case, shoved it deep into his pocket. The door slammed open and he took the stairs two at a time. What a stupid piece of shit Crawford was, there had hardly been any…security…   
He flung the door open at the bottom of the stairs, expecting to find an empty street and Shuld's little car on the curb. But instead he met the barrel of a handgun.   
His eyes traveled along it, to the face of its bearer. The assassin stood frozen. He heard very soft laughter teasing at the back of his head.   
_Oh come ON, kitten. When things were THAT easy, you should have at least been expecting it a LITTLE bit. _   
Youji didn't grace this with a response. The gun bearer was addressing him.   
"What…exactly…do you think you're doing here?"   
The emerald-eyed assassin thought about it for a moment…and then seemed to reach a decision.   
"You see…"   
He struck high, his forearm contacting the gun at the barrel, turning it away from him. It fired off into the night, not even coming close to harming him. At the same time, a knee flew into the other man's groin and he doubled over, the weapon skittering across the pavement. Youji lifted his foot in a large arc, slamming his heel into the man's temple. He dropped like a rock. The wind whipped around his face as he regarded the man, lying crumpled on the cement. He contemplated killing him, but discarded the idea. One death was enough. And besides, who knew whom this one worked for. Crawford, sure…maybe the police…maybe even another one of Schuldich's tricks. One could never be entirely sure.   
His eyes darted for a second…and then he reached down for the gun, tossing it negligently onto the passenger seat as he approached Schuldich's vehicle. He had left the windows open and the doors unlocked. Who cared if it got stolen? All the more trouble for his captor. He opened the driver's side and slid into the seat, turning the keys in the ignition. It roared to life, and he was just about to pull out, when a voice stopped him.   
"Leaving without me, kitten? I'm ashamed!"   
Youji jumped as the read-head sidled up to the car, a lopsided grin on his face. It was not a pleasant expression.   
"How did you get here?"   
Shuldich shrugged.   
"I got Bradie-kins to drop me off a few blocks from here. Ironic, ne?"   
Youji played with the key chain, staring blankly at his chipper enemy as he opened the passenger seat door and removed the gun discreetly before sitting down.   
"Lets go then."   
Tires squealed, leaving thick black marks on the curb as the blonde slammed the petal to the floor, eyes narrowed, his demeanor almost terrified. His hands worked the shift into higher gears as he built speed, flying around the corners. Finally…freeway. He caught the sight of Schuldich's white teeth flashing in the darkness of the car. His whisper was both of mind and of voice.   
_ "Faster._"   
Youji's green eyes flicked from speedometer to road…and then to his passenger. Booted foot pressed the accelerator to the carpet of the little car, feeling the frame vibrating slightly. They passed briefly under a street lamp and he caught the fiery red of his captor's head in the light…behind him, road markers blurred by in a frenzy, their small, evenly spaced reflectors almost a single glowing line aside the speeding car. His hands gripped the wheel, knuckles white as he obeyed, body pressed into the back of the seat.   
And then he saw something else. Something that was not of road or car…something that was entirely unnatural…   
The faint glint of steel in the darkness. 

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In the darkness of the street, the remaining members of WeiB saw the gleaming lights of the car as it spun, squealing its protest, out onto the road. And they knew.   
Aya let a slow smile creep over his face, and saw Ken's puzzled look. Slowly, quietly, he moved his gleaming blade into a fighter's stance.   
"Be ready, WeiB, our quarry comes." 

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	6. THE FINAL CHAPTER! MUAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA...

A/N : BEWARE OF THE MUSHYNESS! oh yeah...and the crap-spectacular ending. O.o would you believe this is the first fic I have EVER finished. yay for me. *throws confetti* Yes...this is...the LAST chapter. Short...and not so sweet....but read it anyway, and tell me what you think! ah yes....and in case you were confused from the last chapter...hm...I HOPE this one clears things up... 

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Still pressed to the back of his seat, Youji peered out onto the road between his white-knuckled hands. Shuldich as silent beside him…he seemed to be as curious as the blonde himself. There it was again…the ominous flash in the dark…like…like…like…like headlights on steel…like light on a sword.   
_Holy. Shit._   
The roaring car bore down on the feeble glimmer, and Youji realized what it was. It was Aya's katana gleaming in the dark…and behind it the multi-facetted shine of Ken's claws…and the tiny spark of the tip of a crossbow bolt. The headlight swung over them…and sure enough there were three silhouettes against the sky…standing perfectly still…ready for him. The light was blinding, for a moment, but the assassin's instincts kicked in and he wrenched the wheel around suddenly. The tires squealed their protest, the sudden turn almost capsizing the vehicle…but then it was upright again, sliding sideways, the sound of metal a sickening, piercing noise along the barrier. Suddenly, he felt the body of Shuldich as the redhead threw himself over Youji's lap. He was spitting vile curses, lip curled up in a sneer of hatred and…something near panic. Through the fragile link between their minds, Youji felt the hatred streaming into him like a violent river…images assaulting him…Crawford, Nagi…Farferello…blood…people…people's faces screaming, streaming by…woman, children, men…blood…so much blood and…Sanity returned and the world came into clarity. Shuldich had control of him. Shuldich was there in his head. Leering, eyes cold.   
_Give me your control kitten. Give it NOW._   
Even if he had wanted to, the blonde could not have resisted. His foot slammed down on the accelerator again, hands spinning the wheel back onto the road. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the headlight do a second sweep over the three assassins in the road. His panicked mind could do nothing to control his body as they headed straight for the three on the road, engine roaring like an angry beast. Vainly he fought back in his mind…but it was like a mouse fighting a cat…completely and utterly useless. He sensed Shuldich calm as the redhead's control over the situation was resumed. But all he could see was Aya, standing still upon the freeway, not even shocked, not even a trace of fear in his swiftly nearing violet eyes. At the last second he moved. And when he moved, WeiB moved with him, the three assassin's synchronizing a sudden leap…Aya one way, Ken and the blonde the other. He heard the scream of metal on metal as the brunette's claws raked the sides of the vehicle uselessly…Aya's move was more effective. A hissing of air sounded as his Katana slashed the back wheel, and then over it, Shuldich's cursing as Youji lost control over the direction of the little car. It swerved sickeningly, sliding sideways again down the center of the road…and then swerved again as Youji tried to keep it from sliding into the ditch. Ahead, his savior. He glanced the barrier only in a brief flash, but knew what he had to do. The car was still traveling at a significant speed…and his captor had relinquished all control once more. Youji eased on the accelerator, trying to keep the car moving forward rather than sideways. It jumped, sputtered, jumped again and then roared as Shuldich and Youji were thrown backwards, Youji's hands up over his face with the expected contact. They hit, and he had no time to react…he was thrown forward violently, felt the small resistance of the windshield, and then was through it, flying over the hood of the car and onto the short barrier. He grunted as his body connected with it with a sickening crack, throwing him sideways and off of the thing, landing in a crumpled ball beside it. He was aware of a faint heat…and the trickling of blood…and then he lost all consciousness.   
  
(a/n and just so we're all clear, Shculdich took control of Yo-tan's mind to make him do all the funky driving stuff to try and kill the rest of weiB...but then gave it back once he saw that he wasn't making things better. And by throwing himself over youji's lap, no, megan, he was NOT trying to give our favorite blonde a blow-job. -_-;;;)   
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Schuldich was gone. That was the only thought that raced, like raging, frustrated fire, through Aya's brain. Schuldich was gone. And therefore, revenge: impossible. He ground his teeth, fingers tightening on the jagged piece of metal that had once been the passenger door. There was blood on the seat…the windshield had smashed. But only one form had gone through it. And that had been Youji. According to all logic trains of thought, the redhead could not have left the car without WeiB noticing. He could not of. Impossible. But then, when is came to Schwarz, nothing, it seemed was impossible. Including disappearing into thin air. With a frustrated snarl, Aya turned away from the smoking ruin that was all that remained of the viper. 

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Several paces away, concealed by tendrils of dark…and by the cement wall in the center of the road, Schuldich was bent in pain, pale hands pressed to his temples. He uttered no sound. Over him loomed the straight form of Crawford, one black-gloved hand resting almost comfortingly the redhead's bent back. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he looked past their cover and out onto the other side of the road…where the shadows that were WeiB moved like wraiths in the weak light of the headlights. Behind him…the gleaming eyes of Nagi and the single yellow one of Farferello glowed like the eyes of feral creatures. Nagi did not move…the effort of moving the prone body of his teammate from the car had been enough to wear him out. Not to mention being forced to stir the man's mind from unconsciousness. Farferello cradled a long dirk lovingly in two hands, looking directly at the back of the suited Crawford. Under his breath he muttered curses…half prayers…   
From Schuldich a soft groan…it seemed to break the black-haired assassin's trance and he looked down on the telepath with mild interest…and reproach. He crouched, so as to be on the same level as the other. With one fine hand he lifted Schuldich's chin, looking into the pained blue eyes for a moment. Then lifted his other hand slowly. He brought it sharply across the assassin's face. Schuldich recoiled, but his eyes were downcast, avoiding the anger of the other.   
"Don't try to steal from me again, fool."   
The hand that had slapped him waved the disc mildly between two fingers.   
"Although…I know you will."   
He stood, gaze once again locked on the drifting form across from him. The eyes of Farferello and Nagi were wary behind him. All the better. With a quick intake of breath, Crawford turned away.   
"Lets go."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Ken held the prone form of Youji between two arms. He was stirring, but only slightly. Blood tricked down his forehead…and from a gash along his ribs. Omi's blue eyes were huge, his voice a whisper.   
"Will he be okay?"   
Aya was tearing cloth away from the wound at the blonde's ribs, and it was a while before he answered.   
"Probably."   
With two fingers he prodded at the parted flesh. Youji groaned softly, pulling away from his touch. Aya shrugged. And drew away.   
"We should get moving. We need to get this bandaged as soon as possible."   
Carefully he took the blonde from Ken's tired arms. The weight was considerable, but he took it without complaint. The matted blonde hair fell over the closed eyes, ruby lips slightly parted. Relief flooded him. Youji had returned to them. Alive. The relief brought weariness…and weariness brought the reminder of his wound, searing like fire blossoming in his side.   
Ah well. Such things could be dealt with. The loss of Youji could not.   
Aya turned his head back towards the apartment. The desire for revenge was nearly dead in him. Nearly. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Two days. Two days Aya had said. Two days in which he had done nothing but sleep. It was little wonder he felt like he'd consumed ten cups of coffee, three chocolate bars an entire liter of coke. On the contrary, his wound was healing faster than Aya's…and the scratch little more than a scab. Absently his long fingers played over the loose ends of the bandage. Across from him Aya sipped at a cup of tea. His Violet eyes were fixed on a notepad in front of him…although as far as Youji could tell, he had not yet written anything.   
"Come, Aya…I feel like a wound spring. I can't sit here and do nothing!"   
The redhead regarded him carefully.   
"But you're going to have to."   
Youji sighed. Omi and Ken were handling the flower shop alone today. Aya had been given the duty of babysitting. Apparently he enjoyed it immensely. Note the sarcasm.   
"Well. At least amuse me, then."   
Aya's irritation was obvious over his notepad.   
"Amuse yourself, you lazy ass."   
Youji's reply was a breath of wind.   
"If only you'd let me."   
Silence.   
"So I suppose my injuries will keep me from working the next few days, ne?"   
"If you can stand, Youji, you can work. In fact, you'll be doing so tomorrow."   
Well so much for that experiment. He reached for the remote and flicked on the television. Aya's death glare was ignored. Figures. Nothing good on.   
"I'll make you a deal."   
Aya's cool voice was hardly audible over the sound of the TV, but Youji heard it well enough. The news announcer was immediately cut off in mid-sentence as he hit the power button, attention turned towards his teammate. The redhead had leaned back, his pencil and notepad on the couch beside him. His expression was odd. Amusement…almost…   
"You shut…and keep…that noise box off and I'll find some way to amuse you."   
Youji considered it…and then consented with a sleight nod. Aya smiled.   
"Okay. Multiple-choice question. Right now I would like to, a: spread Schuldich's innards around on the sidewalk, b: Spread your innards around on the sidewalk, or c: Finish writing without interruption."   
Youji scowled and absently threw the remote at him. Aya caught it deftly, the smile turning into an uncharacteristic grin.   
"Don't know? Okay…how 'bout this one? You are, a: a lazy, useless piece of shit, b: an annoying playboy asshole, or c: going to make me lunch."   
The blonde raised an eyebrow. Two could play this game.   
"Or d: a handsome, kind, considerate, tough, intelligent…"   
Aya interrupted.   
"Okay, okay...I wouldn't want you to go on all day."   
Youji's turn to glare. He stood, stretching. The restless energy from before had been replaced by a pounding weariness from his wound. But he knew that he could not sleep. Instead he flopped down on the couch next to Aya, peering over his shoulder. When the redhead tried to turn the notepad away, Youji pushed it back down.   
"Come on. I deserve to at least get a glimpse after _that_ little trick."   
Muttering the assassin consented and Youji snatched it from him. The page was blank. He turned a skeptical look on its owner. Aya's creamy hands turned back the page before.   
"Baka…"   
Youji stared. On the page before him was a drawing of…himself. In sleep, the green eyes closed, the penciled tendrils of his hair fallen over full lips and cheeks. Long-fingered hands splayed luxuriously before the face, reaching out towards the viewer.   
"When did you do _that?!_?"   
Aya shrugged.   
"While you were sleeping, obviously."   
The blonde muttered.   
"Bastard."   
The grin had returned to the other's face.   
"I know."   
"What, you miss me or something?"   
Aya snorted.   
"Of course I did. But Omi worried more."   
Youji's face had broken into a triumphant grin.   
"Omi worried more. Bullshit! You probably cried like a baby when you found out I was gone!"   
Aya raised one fine brow.   
"Hardly."   
Youji was laughing. He handed the sketch back to Aya, who set it on the table beside him. His head was tilted back against the cloth, mocking. The redhead's mind stirred…the memory of a memory…when he had lain alone and feverish and consumed in pain and fire. He remembered thinking of Youji's face silhouetted against the dark of a window. He remembered questions. Specifically…questions about his sister…about…forgetting. And the summer nights…full of light and laughter and evenings of only the four of them. No thought of missions, or blood or Manx. Just being people…being normal. He remembered Youji's questions…and he remembered leaving. And regret. He had regretted leaving Youji cold and answerless on the living room sofa. And yet, no way to turn back. To steal back the time that he had lost. He turned to Youji. His face obviously betrayed his thoughts, for the blonde titled his head to one side, looking curious.   
"What's bothering you, Aya?"   
Aya's lip twitched unconsciously.   
"Just remembering."   
"Oh? What?"   
Aya looked at him through half-closed eyes, a satisfied expression on his face. He lifted a single finger, and traced the line of Youji's throat to the collarbone. The assassin didn't resist. He saw the memory awaken in his face, saw the small hurt that went with it.   
"You see?"   
"Yes."   
Nothing came without pain. Not even this. He reached up and brushed a lock of gold hair from Youji's face.   
"And you forgive me?"   
"Of course."   
"Good."   
He drew away, picking up the notebook again and placing it on his lap.   
"Then shut up and let me write."   
Youji smiled and leaned against the arm of the couch.   
"It's good to be back with you, Aya. It's good to be back."   
  


(a/n: see? >. I tooold you it was mushy. Yes, you all may go throw up now. but hell. I FINISHED IT! And once again, just so that we're all on the same page...recognise Aya's 'memory of a memory' from the FIRST scene? where he was still wounded and thinking about the summer? if not, go back and look. Yes, I can see realization dawning on all your faces. Yes, I know I should have explained it better in the scene. Yes, I KNOW aya is out of character, but you're all going to have to DEAL, okay? Ahahahaha. okay. Will get more S*it up later. for now. I FINISHED IT! I FIIIIIIINISHED IT! WHEEEEE! *ahem* well. thanks guys, for coming along on the ride...I appreciate it muchly.) 


End file.
